Historiae: Silent Voices
by 13 Chain Blood Spider
Summary: A collection of experimental writings designed to look at events from different points of view. A graveyard for voices that are forever silent. Part of Historiae: The Records.
1. A Foreword

"_We weep at the cry of the hawk, but not at the blood of the fish._

_Blessed are those with voice."_

Motoko Kusanagi, _Ghost in the Shell 2: Innocence _

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"History is written by the victors," as the saying goes. But what about the losers? What about the lost stories, those silenced voices, those unheard testaments? The unheard stories of people who were unlucky enough to not have their story be told? The unknown and the forsaken, whose point of view will never be considered? The hated, who will never be understood?

What about their stories?

Why should they be left unconsidered?

Why should we forget them?

A dedication to those who speak, but are never heard. A requiem for those who bleed, but are never mourned.

May their testaments be forever remembered.


	2. The Blood of Og Hur

**_The Blood of the Og Hur  
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_The Last Testament of Nalgrash dur Nalgorat_

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I am Nalgrash dur Nalgorat. I was the chieftain of the Urshku tribe of the Og Hur people before my death. I tell you my story not because I will be heard but because I must speak.

My people walked the earth since the early days, when Shr molded us out of clay and her blood. We quickly came into conflict with the Amansur, the Frail Ones, and for innumerable seasons we fought them and oppressed them. We dominated their weak race, for their arms were weak and their backs were thin. We took from them their food, their hunting grounds, and at times their flesh. In those days, they knew not of metal nor magic, and so our might was unstoppable.

But our oppression of the Amansur led to our destruction. The shamans spoke of how our strong bodies made us too proud and cruel, and how by the time we realized the Frail Ones had mastered the secrets of copper and sorcery, the earth had long since been stained with our blood. The Frail Ones drove us to the farthest corners of the earth, where Og Hur still hide. Once we were shattered, the Amansur paid us little heed, and we struggled to live in hiding for generations. The greatest among our number, Enkidu, traveled forth to defeat the greatest among the Amansur. But we became forsaken by our champion when he, instead of smiting the Shining One to the earth, became his greatest friend and ally. Without our champion, we were pushed further into the dark corners of the world.

As we had grown proud of our strength, so did the Amansur grow proud of their secrets. They waged war upon one another, turning the tools they used to slay us against their own kin. For generations they fought and slaughtered one another, and because of their conflict we fell out of their sight. This is why the Og Hur still walk today. The occasional tribe among us would venture out of the mountains or forests to feast upon the flesh of the humans, for the humans were many in number and easy to catch, but each time the Frail Ones would venture out to catch and exterminate them. It was this way for generations.

When I was born into the world and my spirit given flesh, the Amansur of the lands that my fathers had lived on were thrown into chaos, for they were without a strong leader, but we were as one behind our Great Chieftain. For many seasons we ravaged the Frail Ones, stealing their secrets and using them against their former keepers. We would drive away those Frail Ones and establish a new territory, one for the Og Hur and the Og Hur alone. The Amansur, weakened by years of warfare with one another, fell prey to our warriors at first. But we were few in number, and the Amansur too many. Though we slew them and took away from them their cattle and their metal weapons, they sent forth their own Great Chieftain, Young Sword, and struck us down once more. He fought our Great Chieftain and cut off his head in front of a thousand of our number; at this, the nine Lesser Chieftains and our warriors swore oaths of vengeance and went forth to slay him.

That day, a thousand became none. Their bones still lie there on that bloody hill, unburied and left for the wild dogs to eat.

Once they crushed us into the earth, they herded us into pens as they did with their animals. They called it the Amnesty, as though we were guilty, as though we had committed a great crime against the gods. What crime is it to take the food and land of a people who could no longer keep them? And have they not committed the same crime themselves? The other chieftains quailed in terror of the Young Sword and accepted his Amnesty, but I, as the new leader of the Urshku, spat upon his false offer and waged war against him as we did in the years before. I would not live as swine, wallowing in a muddy sty as a human throws me fodder. This I told to the two messengers of the Young Sword as I ate his third.

He came for us as we were resting in the late afternoon, like a hunter stalking prey. We had raided a human village for victuals several days before, and did not expect them to catch us so soon. I warned my people that they would not show mercy, and to be on guard for their trickery, but it was not enough. I armed them with weapons of iron, and tried to instruct them in their usage, but it was not enough. I know now that had I a hundred strong warriors and gave them the best metal weapons, it still would not have been enough.

When they came, my warriors fell as sheep did before wolves. I faced the Young Sword in personal combat, as leaders should. Our duel was swift. He was no larger than a Og Hur child, yet could match me in strength, and was armed with a sword that commanded the winds itself. It was but a few moments before my arms were cut off and my head separated from my body. I could say that it was an honor to die as the Great Chieftain did, but it would be a bitter lie.

As my spirit fled my corpse, I watched as the remnants of my people fought and died, watched as our children and wives were put to the sword. It was all I could do then, to observe; to only observe as their blood seeped into the earth, as the women begged for the lives of our children, our future; as our frightened young wailed for the comfort of their mothers and fathers, but were answered with cold steel. It was only as I saw the last child of the Urshku try and fail to slay the Young Sword that I realized that I had doomed my people to this fate from the beginning, the day I refused his Amnesty.

As my spirit left the world, I raged.  
I raged at the gods for failing my people.  
I raged at the Great Pit for dragging into it the souls of the innocent Urshku tribe.  
I raged at the Young Sword and the Frail Ones for wiping us out of existence.  
I raged at the others of my kind for abandoning their pride as Og Hur.  
I raged at myself for dooming the Urshku, my brothers, my kin, my children.  
I raged at the world because I knew that none would mourn the Ursku but the crows.  
I raged because I knew that my voice will eternally be silent.

I am Nalgrash dur Nalgorat. I was the chieftain of the Urshku tribe of the Og Hur people before my death. I told you my story not because I will be heard but because I must speak.

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_The Last Testament of Lurze dur Rushak_

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I'm Lurze dur Rushak. I was the last living child of the Urshku tribe of the Og Hur before I died. I'll tell you my story because I'm scared and I want to be heard.

When the human called Young Sword came to our camp, I was just a little boy. My tribe and my family were always moving. I asked Father and the uncles of my tribe why we were always moving, when there were lots of fish and berries and deer around. They always laughed and told me I'd know when I'm a man. I really wanted to grow up fast.

Life was weird because of all the moving, but it was nice. I played with my brother sister and my friends, and I wanted to be the greatest shaman ever. Lorgu was my best friend and blood-brother, and he wanted to be the greatest chieftain ever. We made a promise. He was going to be the strongest chieftain, and I'd help him as the strongest shaman. After that, we made another promise. We were going to protect our tribe, and fight the Frail Ones, like our parents told us. We really wanted to go hunting with Father and the uncles, and come back with huge hunks of deer and scared humans. We wanted to know what it was like. We thought it'd be fun.

The Frail Ones are weird. Father said they were really strong, but the humans he brings back are really weak and break a lot. The elders told me lots stories. A long long time ago, Shr made us, and humans were really weak. We had the land. Then they told me how the Frail Ones had metal and magic and got strong. I didn't believe them. I know the Amansur were weak. The ones our fathers brought back home were always scared and crying. One day, I wrestled with one of the younger ones. I thought he was my age. I took him out to the forest, and we played. I heard a stick break. I looked down, and I thought he fell asleep. I shouted at him and yelled at him to wake up, but he didn't, so I left him there. When I asked Father about the weird human, he cuffed me and yelled at me. He told me that I "killed" the human and I was being "irresponsible". He told me that humans were really easy to break. After that, I decided humans were weak and frail.

I was wrong.

I was listening to Elder Arthrk when the tent fell. I thought a tree had fallen on us, but it wasn't. I got out of the tent and I saw lots of people asleep. I saw lots of humans wearing rocks running around, and everything was really loud. There was red stuff everywhere, like the red stuff that comes out of deer when Father chopped them up. I think he called it "blood". I saw Lorgu yell and run at the humans, and suddenly fall down. I saw chieftain Nalgrash, the strongest in our tribe, fall down. His head rolled off, like the way deer heads rolled off after Father cut it. I couldn't find Mother and Father.

I was scared and I didn't know what was going on and everything was really loud. I went into some bushes and I crawled past some humans with bows and I picked up a club and tried to hide under a bush because I was scared and I wanted Mother and Father and Brother and Sister and I think I cried a little there and humans and people ran past me and I'm not sure really sure what happened after that I can't remember I can't remember I can't remember—

I saw him.

He was really bright. You know when you look at the sun, it's really bright and it hurts your eyes? He was like that. He just stood there.

He was scary. But I hated him. I hated him more than I was scared.

I don't really know why I hated him. Maybe I just knew somehow that it was his fault.

I ran at him. I screamed really loud. I swung my club, like how Father told me to do. Then everything was dark.

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Maybe I should've run away.  
But I didn't.  
It's too late now.  
It's dark here. It's cold and I don't know where I am.  
I can't hear Brother and Sister.  
I can't see where Father and Mother are.  
I can't find Lorgu.  
I can't move.  
I yelled, "Mother! Father!", but I don't think they heard me.  
It's really cold. I can't see anything. I can't hear anything. It's all black like night, but I can't see the moon or stars.  
I think I'm alone.

...  
I'm alone.

I'm alone.

I'm alone.  
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I'm Lurze dur Rushak. I was the last living child of the Urshku tribe of the Og Hur before I died. I told you my story because I'm afraid and I want to be heard.

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**End**

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